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Phainon was dying.
Not literally, maybe. Probably. Hopefully. Because the headlines of the morning newspaper about his death would be so fucking embarrassing. Death by blue balling: The story of a horny Chrysos Heir tormented by his lover until he exploded. Ah yes, that’s for the history books for sure, Phainon could already see it.
“Stop laughing at me and be nice to me.” Phainon whined playfully from where he stood between Castorice and Mydei in the Nouspourists’ common area, the two bastards laughing unashamedly at him in the middle of the otherwise empty room. Don’t let either of their reserved personalities fool you, they were both absolute assholes. “You know you both love me, so let’s stop with the violence, the bullying!”
Phainon couldn’t even quite remember what exactly he did or said that warranted the relentless teasing from his closest friends, but he knew that it was super funny because that’s just the type of real and humble man he was. Castorice had just put a soft hand to her mouth, as if trying to physically stop the giggles from leaving her lips in order to say something. But, she didn’t get a chance to do so before Phainon snapped his head around, the air shifting as a familiar figure turned the corner and began making its way towards them.
“Anaxaaaaaaaaaaaaaa,” Phainon flung himself over his lover as soon as he came within Phainon’s arm reach, playing up the antics to a thousand because though he knew that the older man loathed to admit it, it really did work on him. Sap, Mydei had called him once, but only after removing himself from swinging distance from the mint haired man, though only proved to do very little to help him in his time of need. “They’re being a bunch of assholes to me. ME, your lovely boyfriend who can do no wrong. How inhumane is that?!”
Anaxa just let out a sigh, feigning annoyance as he bowed his head as a greeting to the other people there and his hand creeped up to meet Phainon’s back with a reassuring pat. He drawled, fingers raking down his back teasingly as Mydei pretended to gag in the background, “Yes, of course Phainon. You’re a good boy that can do no wrong. Do you want a reward?”
Oh .
Phainon should have felt - no, he was - embarrassed at how quickly warmth pools in his stomach and a shiver runs through his entire body - something Anaxa definitely felt with him all pressed onto his side like this. He lets out a shaky exhale into Anaxa’s neck as he peeled himself away, suddenly standing rigid as if all the strings in his body were pulled taut and putting some distance between him and Anaxa because holy shit. Holy shit. That was hot and he shouldn’t be turned on, especially not in front of his friends. And especially from being called a good boy. He was an adult, a respectable Chrysos Heir, an outstanding member of society, and he was embarrassingly all red faced and strung up.
So he did what any well adjusted adult man does and high knees it out of there.
A moment of tense silence passed as the three Heirs watched the rapidly shrinking figure bouncing away before the corner of Anaxa’s mouth tugged upwards.
Phainon knows that smirk. He was so screwed and he didn’t even know it.
It had been six days and ten hours, not that Phainon was counting, since The Incident, and if he didn’t expect that Anaxa had something in store for him, he definitely knew now.
He’d be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy the usually stoic man indulging in his more public shows of affection. A fleeting kiss to his jaw whenever they pass each other in a hallway, not minding the gawking students around them. A firm tug at his choker before letting out an absolutely obscene whisper in his ear when nobody is close enough to hear them. A hand coming up to knead at his thigh just where he likes it before pulling away.
What he didn’t like was the fact that Anaxa had yet to allow Phainon to get his hands over him behind closed doors. Though Phainon would be perfectly fine with constantly being so close to Anaxa that they’d eventually fuse to become one body, he knew that Anaxa, for all that he loved the younger man, hardly felt the same way. He loved his personal space, and while Phainon too loved Anaxa’s personal space, he did relent and space out his self proclaimed “sit on Anaxa” time. This was no problem for them, for Phainon was perfectly content with just coexisting in the same space as Anaxa.
This leads to his current state of his nether affairs where he thinks that he might die from his dick exploding in his hand. But, Anaxa was just so sexy when he shoved Phainon into their shared mattress, clearly already hot and bothered himself as he ground down onto his crotch and let Phainon bite into his neck as their clothed lengths met. And, he was even more sexy when he slipped a hand down his pants and took his cock into his hand, tangling his other hand in Phainon’s messed up mane of hair and crashing their lips together, forcing him into an absolutely filthy lip lock that put all the raunchiest fan fiction circulating the Grove to shame. Phainon did not expect that, as soon as he was about to begin undoing the buckles of their pants, that Anaxa would pull away.
It was sinful and unfair how good he looked when he was playing Phainon like a fiddle - which, by the way, not an expression Phainon had ever in a million years thought that he’d be using for his bedroom affairs. Anaxa pulled away and Phainon had to force himself to look away from the way his Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed whatever of their shared saliva remained in his mouth when he pulled away. Without a single word about this, Anaxa pulled away and gave some half assed excuse - which by the way, since when did Anaxagoras do half assed??? - about dinner, leaving Phainon hard and leaking in his pants like a damned teenaged boy going through puberty.
To make matters worse, this was not a one time occurrence. Phainon was going to seriously die if Anaxa pulled him into another broom shed that he could hardly even stand in unless he was bent over, only to fondle and grope at Phainon like he was some piece of meat. Which wasn’t even the worst part. The worst part was that he liked it. These little excursions always ended the same way, whether he tugged him into an empty storage closet, a broom shed, or even his office once (that Phainon had tried so valiantly to not let happen because he could not afford to pop a boner every time he goes into his office). They always ended with Anaxa pulling away just as Phainon would begin to take matters into his own hands, the moment his fingers met fabric and began to tug against his better judgement.
Gods, he was seriously going to die. That “Death By Blue Balling” headline was becoming too close to reality now, and Phainon wasn’t sure how he felt about his good name being used for it.
This all came to a peak when Anaxa was paid a little visit from the Sage of the Erythrokeramists, Socrippe, just as Phainon had managed to slink his way behind Anaxa’s desk. He had every intention of getting on his hands and knees and begging at Anaxa’s feet for mercy. He was not above getting on his hands and knees and barking if that is what Anaxa wanted either. He has fallen asleep in Anaxa’s arms every night far too hard for it to be healthy, and woke up even harder with Anaxa sprawled all over him by the time the entry hour came. He was going to have some sort of erectile dysfunction at this point, and he wasn’t sure how he felt about that.
Needless to say with his luck, just as he was about to get on his hands and knees from where he was leaned up on Anaxa’s desk, the man pretending not to see his frazzled lover in the corner of his eye, the door slammed open just as Phainon opened his mouth. The low timber of Socrippe’s voice filled the air, which nothing against him but Phainon thinks that he’s found a new method of killing a boner. Perhaps he should go live with Socrippe.
He let out an internal sigh, tuning out whatever the hell Socrippe was saying about some collaboration between some of the researchers of their respective schools. He was a nice guy, but Phainon didn’t particularly care for whatever affairs they had to smooth out at the moment - or more like he couldn’t afford to care at the moment. Either way, Socrippe didn’t seem to care much for Phainon’s presence in the room as the two sages spoke, the white haired man dejectedly ready to get up and move over to the couch near the window of Anaxa’s office when a red tattooed hand came up to rest on his thigh.
“Phainon here was my finest student, cream of his crop.” Anaxa’s voice phased into Phainon’s existence as his praises rang through the air. Did Anaxa’s always sound that… smooth? No, Phainon knows how Anaxa sounds and this isn’t normal. At least not for this. This voice was reserved for… And suddenly, everything made sense to Phainon. He wasn’t blue balling Phainon just because he was an asshole, he was blue balling Phainon with a purpose and because he was an asshole.
Would Cerces be willing to pull through and strike him down?
“He was certainly the most dedicated student I’ve known to graduate from the Grove in years.” Anaxa continued, his hand a steady weight on Phainon’s thigh as he spoke. Phainon thinks that he continues to talk to the other sage, which would make sense with the way that Anaxa’s plush lips continued to move. But now, he can only look at his lips and wonder how they’d look all bitten and swollen.
Everything else said between the two men was completely lost on Phainon, too focused on the fingers digging into the meat of his thigh, preventing him from going anywhere. Just looking like Anaxa’s eye candy in his office, clearly. He didn’t even register when Socrippe left, only the feeling of another hand creeping up onto his other thigh and digging into the flesh.
Perhaps Phainon already died and this was sort of extraterrestrial being messing with him now because now Anaxa was half pulling Phainon onto his lap, hands still roaming and pressing on his thighs as he looked up at the white haired man through thick lashes. “You’re doing this on purpose.” Phainon said dumbly once his head rescrewed itself back onto his neck properly, mouth still agape and he had to physically stop himself from the drool leaving his open mouth. He felt his pants filling out uncomfortably, and he knew that Anaxa felt it too with how he was half sat, half trying to support his own weight, on his lap.
Anaxa did not dignify this accusation with a proper response, just placing his hands on Phainon’s biceps and pretending to ignore the clothed erection pressed against his lower abdomen, before leaning up and whispering. “Come on. Let’s go home.”
Phainon did not need to be told twice.
Anaxa’s eye seemed to glow, even within the dark of the couple’s shared bedroom as he leaned forward from where he was sat between Phainon’s spread legs, giving no attention to the clothed cock poking at his stomach where he was hovering over Phainon, lips only a breath away. Anaxa allowed himself to be pulled into their bedroom, closing the door behind them and pressing Phainon into their sheets so gently, as if he thought Phainon would break which with how tightly pulled he felt, that was a very real possibility.
“Are you going to be good for me, baby?”
Baby . So Anaxa could be like this in bed. And Phainon was way too into it, way more than he thought he’d ever be. Everything Anaxa seemed to do just seemed to be the exactly right thing to get him all riled up, so before anything passed over to his brain, he found himself nodding.
“Come on.” Anaxa cooed, sickly sweet, fingers light as he tickled his clothed abs, and that was all that it took for Phainon’s brain to shut down and stop working. “Say it. Say you’ll be good for me.”
“I…” The words felt foreign on his tongue, as if he had completely forgotten how to talk, his tongue suddenly feeling all too large for his mouth. All the sweet talking he did to smooth talk his way to just get into a relationship in the first place just seemed to completely evade him. He could hardly even get the words out over a whisper. “I’ll be good for you.”
Anaxa hummed, pretending not to hear him as he tapped his lips. Phainon watched like a man possessed as the plush pink skin gave away under the pressure of those pretty little fingers. He looked at him through thick, mint eyelashes. “I didn’t quite get that, what’d you say?”
Was Anaxa’s voice always that deep? “I’ll be good.”
The anticipation was killing him as he waited to see what Anaxa would do to him. “Please, ‘Naxa. Please. I’ll be good, I promise . I need -”
“You need to be patient .” Anaxa tutted, pretending not to hear the whine ripped out of Phainon’s mouth as he hiked himself further up Phainon’s body so that they could be chest to chest. Phainon lamented the fact that they were both fully clothed, perhaps a bit of a trauma response to consistently getting left just as he was about to reach his high. “I want to see you touch yourself.”
Just working on autopilot and trying not to rustle Anaxa around too much as he worked around him, Phainon pawed pathetically at his own pants, feeling his brain liquify and leak out his ears as Anaxa chuckled, light and careless as he tapped Phainon’s hands as to pause him before he shifted again to sit on Phainon’s side, knees tucked under his weight. “It’s a bit hard to see you touch yourself with your clothes still on, Phainon.”
Ah. Right. Yeah, no, pants do have to be off.
“Just because you’re pretty means that I’ll let you off the hook.” Anaxa teased, and clearly the man didn’t want anything to get done because all Phainon could do was let out a whine in response as he finally got his pants off and his dick finally swung free.
The feeling as Phainon finally wrapped his hand around his own dick was euphoric - something he hadn’t even thought to have turned to in his desperation. The contrast of his relatively cool hand to head practically rolling off his dick in waves forced a gasp out of his lips, eyes rolling into the back of his head at how good any sort of contact he made with his rock solid cock.
Eyes closed shut, he ripped his hand off, spit on his hand, and started stroking. He wished he could see whatever look that Anaxa wore on his face at the sight of Phainon pleasuring himself. But he felt trapped, eyes squeezed shut as the heat rapidly built in his stomach. He faintly registered the soft groans Anaxa let out next to him in tandem with the slight dip in their mattress where Anaxa had perched himself, undoubtedly taking himself into his own hands as he watched Phainon jerk himself off. This was shortlasted, however, because he was so pent up from Anaxa’s insistent teasing for the past week that it didn’t even take six full rough strokes for him to start spilling onto his own hand, warmth settling under his skin as his spend spread messily over his closed fist.
“Good boy.” Anaxa cooed, the first thing Phainon heard as the blood stopped rushing south as he cracked his eyes open. Anaxa met his gaze as he slipped his pants off, flinging them over Phainon’s body before shedding his other layers. Phainon practically preened at the praise, bristling as he took Anaxa’s hint to begin peeling his own layers off. “Don’t you think you deserve a reward?”
Phainon’s eyes widened at his words, suddenly bright and alert despite the heavy arousal clouding his face. He swallowed, subconsciously licking his lips and nodding as he kept his eyes trained on the man that was slowly making his way back on top of him.
Anaxa nipped at his lower lip, sending Phainon reeling as he leaned into his mouth. He made a strangled noise that Anaxa swallowed just as quickly as it left his mouth and it did something to him. Then he sees that sharp sting in his lover’s eyes before his own closed and rolled back in his head, just as Anaxa tilted his head and pushed deeper. Phainon’s hands hovered uselessly in the air, too afraid to cup at the man on top of him, too afraid that he’d just pull away.
Then he did just that. The whine building up in the back of Phainon’s throat against his will disappeared just as soon as it was about to leave his mouth, as Anaxa’s slender fingers tapped at his teeth, with his usual gleam of mischief reserved solely for Phainon in his eyes.
Phainon didn’t waste a single second before taking the two digits in his mouth, and gods . It was unfair how good at this Anaxa was. He let out a guttural groan around Anaxa’s fingers, the two digits shallowly moving in his mouth now. The drag of short, well maintained nails against his tongue was sinful, and shortlasting because it didn’t take long for a third digit to join Phainon’s wet cavern.
"So obedient for me, aren't you Phainon?"
Fuck , he wasn’t going to last. Especially not when Phainon opens his eyes when Anaxa begins to curl his fingers in his mouth, pushing so deep that he is almost gagging, and makes eye contact with his little bastard of a boyfriend. He let out another groan around the fingers as Anaxa pushed his tongue flat so that he could reach deeper, reveling in the blush that was slowly running down his lover’s chest at the wet, filthy noises filling the air.
His fingers curled against the back of Phainon’s throat before pulling out of his mouth completely, just as Phainon felt himself leaking precum where he stood upright and neglected by Anaxa. Anaxa raised himself fully to his knees, and reaching back with his Phainon-slicked fingers to gather up what remained of his cum pooling between his legs around his back and gods , Phainon felt another wave of arousal run down his spine.
Anaxa couldn’t stop the moan that ripped from his mouth as he fell forward, slowly pushing a finger past his rim. Phainon watched, ever so patient as Anaxa worked himself open with one finger, then two fingers, then three. The fact that it was his own spit and cum that the man was fucking himself with offered nothing good for his already far gone mind, already thinking about other ways he could stuff Anaxa full. He could grab him up and just bury his head between his cheeks, and maybe even if he was good enough then Anaxa would let him eat him out for the rest of the night. Or, he could take him apart against the mattress, and watch in glee as white leaves his-
Another wet moan filling the air dragged Phainon back to this plane of reality and Phainon would kill for a view like this to be etched in the back of his eyelids. With how he leaned over him, all Phainon wanted to do was to run his tongue across every crook and cranny of Anaxa’s body because how good looking he was is unfair . Anywhere and everywhere Anaxa would allow him to touch. Before he knew it he’s batting at where Anaxa’s hand sank into his hole until the man dragged his fingers out, desperate and clumsily trying to hurry him up already god damnit .
“I’m sorry.” Phainon gasped as he grabbed two handfuls of Anaxa’s ass, grinding his cock between the cleft of his ass. “I’m so sorry, but I need you so bad.” He didn’t even feel like he was in control of his own body anymore, his hips stuttering on a mind of its own as he rabbited upwards. “Please, Anaxa. Can I? Can-”
“Come on, Phainon.” Anaxa cupped his cheeks, his own already flushed. “Let’s get you your reward, hm?”
He knew what was coming, but nothing could stop the moan from leaving his mouth as Anaxa leaned back and sank down on his cock, his walls already clenching down on him as if he loathed the idea of the two being apart. Anaxa had to place his hand onto Phainon’s to take a few moments to adjust, but that didn’t stop him from purposefully squeezing down on Phainon just to be an ass.
Phainon was so tightly strung that as soon as Anaxa’s ass sank down. Dragging inch by inch until he met his hips, and he only felt the static of his head grow louder before he knew he was coming again. “Anaxa, please .” Phainon whimpered brokenly, hands momentarily pulling away from where he was gripping down on his hips, hard enough that he knew Anaxa would be batting at him tomorrow, hissing about the bruises left in his wake. The feeling of his cum inside Anaxa shouldn’t have felt as good as it did, and he knew that he would get an earful about it tomorrow as well but he couldn’t bring himself to care now. “ Please don’t tease me anymore.”
His head was still swimming, mind hazy as Anaxa began to rock his hips in lieu of a response. Or maybe he thinks he didn’t answer him. He hardly even registered that it was him letting out a miserable, broken moan when Anaxa grabbed at his pecs and started playing with his stiffened nipples. He finally got what he’s been wanting for the past week, and yet he couldn’t form a single coherent thought, much less move. All he could do was bury himself even deeper into their mattress as Anaxa moved on top of him, hips steadily moving up and down as he forced more whines of pleasure out of Phainon’s lips.
His cock was throbbing within him - a refractory period blessed by the gods - as he tried to press himself as deep into Anaxa as humanly possible, tried to press his cum even further into his ass, but his legs seemed to stop listening to him and laid flat where they were on their bed so that all that he could do was try to pivot his hips upwards, but it wasn’t working and Anaxa.
Well, Anaxa didn’t even seem to be bothered by the entire lack-of-cognitive-ability that Phainon had going on. He was too busy savoring the feeling of being pressed and kept wide open. This wasn’t anything new for them, but he still felt incredible. Quite frankly, he doesn’t think that there was anything that could be done to ruin this for him.
He pulled Phainon to sit upright by the collar as he descended back down onto his cock with another harsh squeeze to his cock as if he was trying to milk the damn man dry. Phainon was boneless, fully leaning over Anaxa’s shoulder to support his weight as he let out little ah-ah-ahs every time Anaxa ascended, only to slam his ass back down. As if he were making dick riding a professional sport and was aiming to get an Olympic gold medal for it.
Anaxa soon began to stutter, losing rhythm as his strings began to pull tighter, before snapping one by one. His breath rang out in the air more ragged as he circled his hips, trying to speed up and chase his own pleasure as he rolled down again. Phainon’s hands, finally becoming his own once more, made their way up to wrap around Anaxa’s waist as his head began to clear, his hips bucking up and forcing Anaxa further into his arms. He relished the exhale - definitely not a moan, as Anaxa had insisted more than once before - that Anaxa awarded him as his fingers met and overlapped, dragging his lover up before bucking up as he forced him down.
Phainon was practically in tears when Anaxa worked him through a third orgasm, singing his praises into his ear with sweet nothings as he reached down with one hand and grabbed his balls to play with every time he went down. Gods, Phainon wouldn’t be able to let anyone tell him he’s ever done a good job on anything ever again because Anaxa has completely ruined it for him, and he doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to pivot a conversation away from his praises so that he can go rub a quick one out while wishing Anaxa’s own ringed fingers were replacing his own.
He wrapped his arms around Anaxa in a hug, pulling him close as he shuddered and his hips rolled involuntarily back into Anaxa. He tried not to think about the way that he felt his excess spend spill out beside his half hard cock with nowhere else to go inside Anaxa. He tried not to think about it because holy shit it was not good for his mental health at all .
Except Anaxa clearly had other plans for him, fingernails raking through his hair as he groaned out an absolutely maddening, “That’s three, big boy. You are just so, so good for me.”
Or maybe he was just that easy because he immediately felt himself filling out again while inside of Anaxa, head spinning as he bordered on overstimulation. Phainon was drooling now, mouth slack and overcome by the feeling of Anaxa’s free hand, cold as death, as it came to rest on a broad shoulder to use as leverage as he tried to regain control over the pace that Phainon had ruined. He was pretty sure he would wake up to angry red crescents over his shoulders and arms, but he couldn’t quite bring himself to care, going eye for an eye as he leaned forward and took a stiff bud in his mouth. Or at least that was his intention.
“Phai-” Anaxa whimpered out, squirming away from the slimy feeling of a clumsy, wet tongue dragging down at one of his nipples as Phainon zeroed in on his chest, excess saliva running down his chest freely as he slobbered all over the man. He tried to suck at the flesh, but he could hardly bring his mouth to close as he wanted to in order to maximize the suction that he had previously very scientifically, by the way, mapped out on Anaxa’s body. The blunt scrape of teeth against the sensitive skin pulled a whine from his lips, Phainon looking up at him with wide, glazed over eyes in wonder. As if Anaxa had pulled the stars down from the sky for him. “Go on, Phai. You know what you want. Take it. You’ve been so patient for me.”
Anaxa was going to make his dick fall off at this point.
In an unfairly arousing display of strength despite his mind completely clouded over, Phainon lifted him off his cock and all but slammed Anaxa back down onto his lap, all while babbling uselessly around his nipple as he felt tears prickle at his eyes. It was unfair, the way Phainon just manhandled him like he weighed nothing, but the feeling of the mattress disappearing underneath his knees brought Anaxa so dizzyingly close to his edge that he couldn’t even find it in him to complain.
“‘Naxa, ‘Naxa, ‘Naxa.” Phainon babbled into his chest, or at least that's what he meant to say. But, his body was on autopilot now, muscle memory as he dragged Anaxa down so that he could bury himself impossibly deep. His tongue felt too large for his mouth and he knew that whatever he said was probably nothing but unintelligent gibberish to Anaxa. He wasn’t going to last much longer, which was embarrassing , but he didn’t care. Not when he’s been waiting so long for this.
A litany of wordless moaning or maybe he was even begging the titans above, he didn’t even know, fell from his mouth as Anaxa grabbed him, and with a harsh, yet not unkind, tightening of his jaw, pulled him into an overeager clash of teeth and lips. His eyes were dark and full of head, legs dangling uselessly above where they were once spread to bracket Phainon’s hips in an obscenely wide stance with his heavily weeping erection on full display.
He was close too, Phainon knew this. He was getting tighter, harder to push into, but nothing could stop Phainon from bullying his way further into his lover, incoherent whines falling from his lips as he did so. He thinks Anaxa was trying to scramble to support his weight on his own legs, but Phainon didn’t allow for this to happen, hands firm as they guided Anaxa up and down, up and down.
He was about to grind Anaxa’s hips down onto his lap so that he could take his length into his hand when Anaxa all but purred into his ear, nipping into the soft flesh. His breath was warm, soft, and just so unfairly husky when he whispered to him. “Come on, be good and come for me just one more time.”
His vision went white and he was out.
When Phainon finally came back to it, he was clad in cozy new pajamas and bundled under new, very warm sheets. His eyes fluttered open, face buried so close into the crook of Anaxa’s decidedly very red neck - courtesy of yours truly - that he felt the bend of his eyelashes as his vision refocused and more of their bedroom came into vision. He had clearly been out for a while, leaving Anaxa enough time to not only drag Phainon (struggle him to) to the bathroom to clean him up if his skin now being baby soft and smelling just a little of burnt sage was anything to go by, but also to change their sheets and dig around enough to find Phainon favorite pajamas to dress him up in.
He did feel bad that he wasn’t awake to see Anaxa really fall apart on top of him, but there’d always be next time. Perhaps when he was done recovering from feeling like he was run over by a truck, his brains and his muscles all turned to mush.
He was koala hugging Anaxa from the side as the man in question turned another page of his book, stealing a glance down at his now awake lover. “You’re unbelievable.” Anaxa murmured against his skin, leaning over and peppering kisses everywhere he could reach on Phainon’s face once he registered the man was now awake.
Phainon leaned into the touch before pulling Anaxa down and pressing a kiss to his lips. “I think you’ve broken me. My brain?” He rasped against the soft, plush lips as he reached a hand to cup at his jaw before diving right back in again. “My brain is melting out my ears, Anaxa. How are you going to take responsibility for this?”
Anaxa decided to bite back the jab lingering on his tongue.
“You’re ridiculous.” Anaxa couldn’t keep the fondness out of his voice, carding his hands through tangled locks. Phainon, deciding that the space between them was far too much for it to be healthy, rolled over and flopped onto Anaxa, crushing him and his book under his weight, ignoring the uncomfortable dig of the solid, leather bound pages into his stomach. “And heavy , get off of me you big oaf.”
Anaxa would just have to deal with it.